


you wanna go for a ride, pretty boy?

by tidyattire



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: M/M, cody ko fucking loves it though, noel miller is a disgusting flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tidyattire/pseuds/tidyattire
Summary: in which noel is a streetracer and cody is his pretty but jaded fratboy
Relationships: Cody Ko & Noel Miller, Cody Ko/Devon Spinnler, Cody Ko/Noel Miller
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	you wanna go for a ride, pretty boy?

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this a while back on an account i deleted (i used to be @noctiferist). i still like it. so i want it here again :) i don't think i intend to write more than this. so i hope people like it.

To call Cody’s existence unfulfilling would be an understatement. In fact, Cody found the idea of stepping in front of a passing car to instil some chaos in his life more tempting with each second.Not awake or asleep, the man found his days and nights melding into a slog that made his eyes and mind and heart heavy. Just so heavy. It would be a granola bar for breakfast and a glass of artisanal orange juice from the upmarket vegan store on his street corner. The day job was uncomplicated, Cody was making good money as a software engineer for just another pointless and convoluted millennial app company due to his history at Duke and enigmatic personality, but it was the antithesis of passion project. 

He found the idea of driving one of those company supplied, machine-sharpened ’TICONDEROGA™ 2HB’ pencils between his eyes intriguing and not in the slightest melodramatic; maybe even a little less flashy than he desired if he were to be brutally honest with himself. He had fantasised about spinning the jaw of his fifty-something manager on numerous occasions; he speculated about the noise it would make and wondered if it would finally clear the damp cotton-wool feeling from inside his own head. Would his blood be thin due to the heavy mixture of apixaban and warfarin after his biannual stress-induced heart attack, and paint his knuckles in a pathetic vermillion watercolour? Would his skin split and tear along his frown lines? Would the yellow of his bruising be comparable to the pure yellow of a ’TICONDEROGA™ 2HB’ pencil? He had adopted the habit drinking his complimentary filter coffee just a little too hot so that he could focus on the liquid moving down his throat, slowly slowly, and settling in his stomach, so he could feel the slight chalkiness of burnt taste buds and rid himself of the tacky dryness with a sip of once-again-filtered water. 

Cody would clock out and go home, curse LA traffic, place his tan oxfords by his door and settle in for a night of watching as other people feigned living interesting lives on his social media. Maybe, although he hated to admit it, live vicariously through the videos of laughing and partying and eating and just living and living and living. Everything he felt he wasn’t. 10PM, bedroom. And then a 6AM wake up, but realistically you can’t call waking up ‘waking up’ if you aren’t waking up from anything right? The one thing Cody liked about his insomnia was that it slowed down his train of thought, no more histrionics and overthinking – he felt like he barely had the energy to breathe. Do it all again. Rinse, repeat. yadda yadda fucking yadda.

Devon invited Cody around for a drink late one evening and Cody welcomed the shift in his usual routine – although it did mean he had to leave his apartment, which in it’s complete chaos had become an extension of Cody’s dull skin. Devon’s light-hearted and piss-taking nature was a warm alternate to Cody’s feeling of coldness and the smile Cody received as Devon opened the door was homely. In all honesty, Cody could not remember the last time someone had smiled at him.  
“Ay Codes! Come in- woah dude, you look like shit! Were you out last night or something?” Devon’s voice, although meant in all joviality, grated on Cody’s sleep-deprived ears and made him wince visibly. His friend laughed as he pulled him in for a brief hug. Cody can’t find it in himself to make an excuse for his exterior but he knew that Devon was right. The dark roots of his hair had grown out, making his dyed platinum blonde look like an homage to a noughties boyband member and his eyes were pulled down in a way they never used to be – they used to be puppy-dog esque, friendly and wholesome and warm and lined with the indents of crows feat from harmonious laughter, but now they slumped in a similar way that his shoulders did. Defeated. “Come in, come in, come in dude, how have you been? I- I feel like I haven’t saw you in fuckin’ eons!”  
“Cause you haven’t,” Cody’s tone was awfully curt and he internally punished himself for his manner. To internally punish seemed like Cody’s sole habit lately. Cody wanted so desperately to slump into his best friend and tell him that he was struggling, and struggling really badly, but Cody’s pride refused vehemently. He followed Devon inside his house and settled himself on the couch as Devon retreated into the kitchen, still visible through the serving hole until his head ducked into his fridge. Cody huffed and began again,“I’ve been alright- Miller please,” Cody pauses his speaking as his friend gestures two cans of beer up without glancing at him. Miller was always his favourite. Devon’s unspoken question stopped Cody’s drift and prevented him from needing to lie about his state, something Cody was secretly grateful for. A hand shot up in order to catch the beer Devon had thrown through the hatch but Cody couldn’t find the adrenaline to catch fast enough, which sent the it clattering to the floor, Cody groaned and retrieved it, shoving the metal rim into his mouth as he opened it and lapped away the fizz quickly.  
“Where’dya volleyball hands go dude?” Devon teased and Cody shook his head, wiping the condensation his left hand on his jeans as he thumbed the blue lettering on the can with the other.  
“Haven’t played in a while. To be honest I- I haven’t really done- anything for a while.” Cody kept his eyes cast to the coffee table. His view of Devon’s decorative non-read books was shielded by hands placing down two novelty ‘IBIZA’ shot glasses and a bottle of Russian standard. Devon homed his PBR in his mouth as he did this. Cody internally cringed at the thought of teeth gripping hard on metal, “you planning on getting me fucked, yeah?” Devon chuckled and cocked his head to the side, expelled breath when he used a now-free hand to take the can from his mouth and into one of his hands.  
“In which way?” Devon wiggles his eyebrows and Cody responds with a breathless ‘fuck off’, bitter and sarcastic. Cody had been alone ever since he left his previous girlfriend for his new job in LA, come to think about it, he could never recall feeling the way he does now when he was in Calgary, but he also had a love for rose-tinted spectacles. Cody doesn’t really know what he thinks anymore, “you’d think with all that cash you bring in now, you’d easily romanced an influencer in a wine bar.” Devon laughs even louder than previously. Cody hadn’t been to any wine bars in LA.  
“You’d think.” Cody laments and Devon notes that Cody hasn’t bit back with a witty remark.  
“Something up?” Devon huffs out a breath as he places his can on his coffee table, no coaster. He pours out two shots of vodka and before he can even offer one to Cody, a shaky hand reached out to tip the liquid into the back of his throat, a hiss leaving his mouth after, more out of tradition and social conformity than actual disgust. “I would’ve expected an ‘yeah I’m taking your mum out’ or something of an equally high calibre-“  
“I don’t know man,” Cody is dismissive, rolls his neck back so it lolls over the back of the couch. His legs part from his uptight stance and one of his hands slides down his thighs to settle on his knee, “just- feel-“ he sighs again, everything feels shameful, “I don’t know I’m just not- living at the moment. And not in a, like, ‘I’m dead’ sense, just in, like, a ‘nothing is exciting’ sense. I know I’m not making any sense but-“  
“Dude.” Devon stops his friend’s rambling and Cody rears his head to look at him, makes a mental note that Devon hasn’t downed his shot yet, “stop. I get it. I get you, man. You need to let loose, that’s fine. You’re good dude, I’m gonna get you out, okay? We’re going out tonight.” Devon’s all ‘action stations’, he busies himself and strides the living room to his coat rack, grabbing a black bomber jacket and slinging it over his shoulder. Cody just watches and shakes his head, lifting a hand to visually wave off the outing,  
“Nah, let’s just stay-“  
“No, if you want something exciting, I’ve got something exciting for you. And we’re going,” Devon throws a hoodie that lands over Cody’s face. Cody groans, setting his drink down to pull it over his head,  
“Man I really don’t want to go to a club,” Cody’s speech is muffled by the fabric, “just dudes on the dancefloor, sausage fest and all that-“  
“Hey hey hey, who said we’re going to a club?” Devon interjects, punctuating his words with tiny chuckles at Cody’s disgust, “I’ve got something special for you if you really want to feel ‘alive?’” Devon whispers the last word in a theatrical nature and if Cody didn’t know his heart he would’ve thought he was mocking him. Devon eyes his friend down another shot, stand up and saunter over to him.  
“I swear I you pull some purge shit right now, I’ll kill you.”  
“Wow, aren’t you getting into character already?” Cody scoffs at his friends retort, regretting his choice of words, “it ain’t particularly legal but we won’t be doing any of the crime, jus’ watching it.”  
“Dude-“  
“I know a guy who streetraces. But on Fridays, they meet under that abandoned shopping centre to run rings.. you know the one on the plinth that we’ve smoked under a couple of times?” Devon’s eyes light up as he describes it, he practically watched the cogs churning in Cody’s brain. That’s how it felt sometimes, that Cody’s head ran on petrol and someone kept filling it up with diesel. He nods, urging his buddy to continue, “they call it ‘the underground’ now and man- I’ve been meaning to take you for a while but they’re super worried about snitches.. which kinda makes sense, right? It kinda makes sense,” Cody nods again, he feels like one of those tacky dogs people put on their dashboard, “so you gotta keep this on the down-low okay?” Nodding again.  
Before he even has time to think, he’s in Devon’s car and Devon is bumping some trap music that allows Cody’s heartbeat to match with the rhythm. It’s the first time in around a year that Cody has felt synced with anything. It also served as some reassurance that he was, in fact, living. They’re driving out of LA, which isn’t exactly surprising to Cody but it excites him nonetheless. Before he can even notice, his knee is jerking up and down out of nervousness. Anticipation. Cody’s hand fiddles with Devon’s glove compartment, pushes back a comment swelling in his throat about Devon’s stash of durex and fishes out a baseball cap he remembers he left in there from a surf trip around six months back. Suncream painted around the rim. He swoops back his hair and pulls the cap low on his forehead. It cuts his jawline and manages to shadow his deep-set eyes. Complimented with Devon’s hoodie, Cody had somehow succeeded in making himself more attractive, although he didn’t quite feel it himself. That wasn’t even an issue that he could attribute to his new-found emptiness. Cody had never really felt like a pretty boy.  
“Who’re you getting’ pretty for huh?” Devon glances to his side. Cody was watching the side of the road as they drive further away from their city, Devon could see a serenity in his expression that contrasted his ticks. His friend always used to joke that he had the temperament of a new born, lulled in and out of consciousness by the monotony of the road.  
“You never know.” Cody’s heartbeat quickens at the sharp turn Devon takes into a large complex. The shopping centre is domed, painted in peeled pastel, he can make out light coming from the car park underneath. Devon makes a point of switching off the radio and grins at Cody as the distant music can be heard through his open window, deep. It stirs something in Cody that makes it hard for him to sit still, he wishes he’d drank more. He thinks, ironically, that maybe then he wouldn’t feel so ill. The man does his best to drink in his surroundings instead. The muffled feeling inside of his own head only heightened his adrenaline, something that was new – Cody had grown to hate his muted thoughts but, in this setting, it felt dizzying. Exciting. Devon has a brief conversation with a man who let them further into the setting, reverse parking in to a space and hopping out of the car. There was something about all of this that made Cody feel confident, tough. His body betrayed him, fumbling over his feet and catching himself in Devon’s side.  
There’s a large gathering of people towards the centre of the floor and Devon breaks into a slight run to reach there, Cody tethers behind with ease. He almost loses Devon as he weaves through the crowd, spilling drinks and brushing shoulders to get to a clearing; Devon squeezes his shoulders and scoffs as he views the cars in front of him, switching around on his feet in anticipation.

That’s when he sees him.

Confidence draped against a matte black miata.

Never had Cody witnessed someone who’s aura was so intoxicating it felt hard to breathe.

He liked it.  
He laughed. Oh God he laughed, and Cody hadn’t experienced such clarity in so long. He’d shut his eyes to revel in the sensation but he couldn’t deny himself any second longer of drinking him in. He was the only thing he could hear; the only thing that broke the thick soupiness of his own thoughts and made his mind intimidatingly clear. Low and melodic snickers hushed and left a smirk painted on plush lips, tongue darting out to wet them before he spoke and earned a laugh. And again. So witty. Cody made a mental note of how he threw his head back as he laughed, hand clutching at the hem of his jacket, over his heart, and he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of letting his eyes wander up his throat and settle on his jawline. Cody would’ve been devastatingly jealous of his charisma if he hadn’t been so goddamn alluring; His body language was lazy, hips pushed back against his car door as he drew up lax fingers to draw smoke from a half-smoked jay. Never before had Cody found beauty in the way someone exhaled, but watching the way his chest filled and fell, that simple fact had reformed. Cody cursed the lighting for being so dim, cursed the music for being so loud so he couldn’t place his words as his lips moved, cursed his beating heart for making him feel like he was going to empty his stomach of granola, orange juice, coffee and bile.  
“That’s Noel.” Devon pushed against his friends’ shoulder and breaks his concentration, grin plastered on his face, “I feel like you wanted to know that.” Cody began to internally panic that his gawking had been painfully obvious, but Devon’s playful nature meant no harm and quelled his nerves quickly. Cody doesn’t notice but he’s picking at his own fingernails.  
“Noel?” Cody hushes, and he adores the way it rolls off his tongue. Adores the way each syllable feels comfortable in his mouth and coats his maws like liquor. Not in an off-license way, in the excitement and ecstasy of a stolen bottle of glenfiddich from your parent’s holiday stock, way.  
Noel felt like the personification of all things tempting.  
“Dude- Get yourself together. You’re sucking his dick with your eyes, lover boy,” Devon uses a curled pointed finger to rest underneath Cody’s chin and closes bubblegum parted lips, Cody looks at him like a schoolgirl with a playground crush; eyes glassed and dolly, cheeks dusted in a rosy pink. Devon chuckles and reaches under his waistband, hip flask clattering as he sips whatever decanted liquid, he’s decided to bring with him, he doesn’t even look at Cody as he jostles it into his hand. What Cody determines to be bombay sapphire slips down his throat and he flinches at the perfume-esque aftertaste.; Cody had never been a Gin drinker, he would always moan that ‘if he wanted to drink alcohol, he wanted to drink alcohol, not hand lotion’. One shove, two shoves, three shoves, it takes before Cody opens his eyes out of his own distaste and when he does, he’s greeted with his muse up close.  
Cody feels like he’s choking on a mixture of blunt smoke, sandalwood and cockiness.  
“Who’s your pal, Dev?” He hums low and his eyes don’t break from Cody’s. Noel notes that Cody's eyes are a dark green. Noel hopes that Cody notes that his are a pretty light brown. Cody does. Cody feels like he’s being eaten alive. And he likes it, he fucking likes it. Noel raises an eyebrow and almost dares Cody to speak for himself. He can’t find the words – just moments before he was thinking how comfortably his mouth fits around the syllables of the man’s name in front of him and now he can’t even find the syllables for his own. Tongue-tied. Cody almost wishes that Noel had asked him what his own name was, so he let the sounds drip from his mouth once more; that would at least be something. Anything.  
“That’s Cody,” Devon answers and Cody nods. Tacky dashboard dog.  
“Cody huh?” Noel tips his head to the side. Noel found the name fitting. It wasn’t unforgiving and for someone so lyrical he liked the lack of harsher consonants, he figured he could say it in a way that would sound like music. There was some tempting innocence to Cody that Noel thought irresistible – soft cheeks and warm eyes. He was refreshing.  
“Yeah, Cody.” Cody speaks for himself and manages to flash Noel a small smile that confirms all of Noel’s instincts. Noel had a sweet tooth. Cody was candy floss. A break from the scantily clad girls that would writhe their way onto his lap after collecting his race cheque, a break from the v-neck wearing dudes that would squeeze his thigh just a little too tightly when he shifted into 5th. A welcome break.

“You wanna go for a ride, pretty boy?”

Clarity.

Cody was so breathless he felt like he’d been hit with a semi-truck. He felt like he was swallowing his own tongue, like his own oesophagus had closed to the point of not allowing him to respond. The world was pretty when Noel talked because the world disappeared – and if the only thing that was, was Noel, how could it be anything less than pretty? To say Cody was thinking would be a generous statement. Consumed would be more of an accurate term. In his lucidity there was Noel. Only Noel, but Noel nonetheless.

Lucidity was Noel.  
Lucidity was smirking at him.

“I’ll keep ya’ safe, you don’t have to worry about that.” Noel had one of his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket, the other occupied with a zoot that he flicked to the floor after taking one last long drag – this hand now loosely draped out in front of him, filling the space between him and Cody. Noel mulled over the thought of comparing him to a deer in headlights but he thought it would be all too apt; doe eyes and soft demeanour. Noel’s neck tipped to the side, awaiting a response. Noel didn’t mind waiting honestly, although the situation might’ve been mildly embarrassing for some – it gave him time to further justify his own choice, and God did Noel enjoy the ego-trip of validating his own tastes. He watched as the man in front of him adjusted his baseball cap, hand coming up the scrape back soft strands of dyed hair back underneath his hat. Noel swallowed telling Cody to keep it off and for the first time in a long time Noel find his confident manner fracture, only slightly; he knew Cody was attractive, he wouldn’t be speaking to him like he was if he wasn’t sure of that fact, but watching Cody’s fingers card through his own dirty blonde hair, jawline almost tempting, made Noel almost intimidatingly aware of his propensity for claiming a pretty frat boy. This was all an ego thing too.  
For him to be his, his, his.  
Noel was shaken out of his new-found consciousness by a hand in his own. Noel dropped his head and huffed out a breath, he chuckled at the recent boldness of his boy. Although initially only expecting their tactility to be a handshake, maybe even dapping up the man in front of him if his bro-ish appearance gave anything about his taste in greetings, however Noel couldn’t think of anything more fitting than Cody holding his hands in the way he did. To deny the fact that their hands fit together like puzzle pieces would be sinful, although Noel thought that a puzzle piece wouldn’t do justice to the softness, warmness that Cody embodied. Noel couldn’t mock Cody out of the fear that he would let go, and Noel was too self-indulgent to deny himself of the pleasure so he kept his harshness to himself.  
And for the first time in his life, Noel Miller bit his tongue.  
Noel found the growing softness in his own chest painfully foreign, for soft wasn’t a word that Noel had ever had a specific affinity with. What made it worse was that Noel had only heard Cody speak two words, and those two words weren’t particularly eloquent or fascinating yet in a refreshing fashion Noel had the patience to find Cody’s coyness endearing. Cute. For someone who found things sickly and too sweet so readily, Cody seemed like a beautiful exception. Maybe it was that Cody’s brightness was born of nights under the stars, singing just a little too loud on road trips, campfires and marshmallows and fireflies and all things awe-inspiring, rather than a need to only appear kind; there was a authenticity to Cody that Noel could sense, and god, in his world he had never met something so beautifully clean. A soul that Noel could drink in for the rest of his days and drown in it’s serenity.  
“You promise?” Cody hummed, flashing a smile at the man in front of that if he knew the devastating effect on Noel’s insides he would’ve withheld – never intending to cause that much chest pain. Noel mulled over the idea of a promise in his own head, tried to stop himself but fantasised about what Cody really meant. What Cody could mean by those exact words in years to come.  
Drowning.  
“Trust me, idiot. I ain’t been driving for years to fuck up a face like yours spinning circles. That’s why I’ve still got my own ruggedly handsome good looks,” Noel simpered at Cody, batting his eyelashes mockingly as he tugged him towards his ride. Devon said something, but honestly Cody wasn’t listening. Cody was occupied with hanging on each low, sardonic word the dripped from Noel’s lips. Cody rolled his eyes at Noel’s feigned arrogance and tried to quell the aching in the pit of his stomach at the brunette’s charm. A face like his, a face like his. Noel noted the silence and chortled at Cody’s facial expression as he led him to the passenger side. And god, Noel just really couldn’t help himself. A tan arm snaked to rest itself to the right of Cody’s shoulder, palm against the metal roof of the car, leaning his torso in so that Cody would shift himself back against the door, “What? Don’t you agree?” Devilish. Noel taunted Cody and cocked his head to the side, sneer painted on his lips before breaking into a deafening chuckle and pulling back to open up the passenger-side door, “Man, you’re too sweet.”  
Cody couldn’t find the words to describe Noel’s laugh. All he knew was that if he could have it be the last thing he heard; he really wouldn’t mind.  
Noel’s car smelt of blunt smoke and cinnamon, which wasn’t all too surprising. Somehow.  
“No fuzzy dice or anything? Dude, I feel a bit let down,” Cody noted, finger coming up to tap gently at Noel’s mirror of which earned a small chuckle from the driver. Cody reached to do up his seat belt and he heard Noel’s movements still, this caused him to rear his head as he clicked his buckle into place, “what?”  
“Ah ah ah,” Noel shook his head, arm reaching around to click the semi-blonde’s seat-belt out. Cody took notice of the fact that Noel’s hand clasped the metal and brought it round to settle at Cody’s opposite side as to make sure it didn’t thud against his chest. Noel thought Cody was precious cargo, “we don’t do that here. This,” Noel gestures to the ceiling handle, “or this,” then taps on the dashboard, “if you really need to brace yourself.” Noel spoke in cynicism as if he didn’t know he’d push it to the limits to evoke a reaction from the boy next to him.  
“You could like- remove the seat-belts if there’s no point in them-“Cody huffs, pink and embarrassed. There hasn’t been an instance where Cody had felt so strait-laced in his life, and Cody thought his general day to day existence was painfully uncomfortable – the thing was, was that Cody was unaware that this was exactly his charm. A magnetism based around his ability to light up a room with blithe giggles and pushing things just a bit too far in the name of a good time. Cody felt like he’d lost his spark during his low period and he’d never really been able to reignite it, but Noel felt like kerosene.  
“Some even go for here.” Noel gestures to his own thigh, lids low, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  
“Man fuck off. Fuck you.” Noel cracks up loudly, unable to keep his composure due to the increase in two octaves of Cody’s voice, hand coming up to cover his mouth before settling comfortably on the gear stick and the wheel. Exuding poise.  
“Hey, pretty boy’s got a potty mouth. Who’da thought?” Noel quipped and Cody felt like his stomach had sank into the leather seats beneath him and after what seemed like too many minutes of deliberation, Cody settled on hanging his arm from the handle, his other palm finding its home on top of his own thigh. Noel would be lying if he said his eyes didn’t sway from the windscreen to Cody’s hand tightening on the handle, would be lying if he said it didn’t make him shift in his seat.  
“You don’t bump anything when you’re-“  
“Ay, shut the fuck up a second.” Noel spoke and Cody obeyed, ears pricking at the sound of a loud beep which made Noel rev his engine in response. Goosebumps. There was a feeling in Cody’s stomach that felt deep and heavy and devilish, he couldn’t quite make out whether Noel was laughing but the aura emanating from the drivers side was so intimidating that he couldn’t even find the gall to look, “Codes, you gotta trust me now, okay?” Noel shouted over the thunder underneath his hood. Noel was panting and Cody could see his chest heaving in his peripheral. The nickname felt comforting and Cody pushed himself back against the seat, neck tipping backwards and closing his eyes in a momentary tranquillity that was broken by another grumble from Noel’s engine, “that’s the only way you’re gonna enjoy this shit,” A beep and a trigger-happy foot on the pedal once more, “Just-”  
Third beep.

“Let go.”

The glint in Noel’s eyes as Cody opened his own was a moment that Cody knew would replay in his own dreams until the very day he died. Noel’s eyes were menacing and soft and dark and soothing all at once. Noel knew in that instant that he was into something he knew he’d regret. Noel Miller didn’t have his eyes in front of him at the count, but instead cast beside him, indulging himself in one last look at Cody’s dark green, cheekbones and soft lips. Everything felt like treacle, gummy and slowing. Sickly sweet.

Throttle.

Initially the experience was completely invigorating. There was a simple irony in the fact that Cody’s head hadn’t felt so clear in so long and the air in Noel’s ride was so thick with smoke it was almost congealed. Cody didn’t catch himself smiling, but the muscles in his face pulled the corners of his mouth to unprecedented widths. Cody didn’t catch himself hollering, beating his palms in Noel’s dashboard, feeling a spark rush through his fingertips every time they made contact with the bumped plastic. Noel had never seen anything so alive, so present, so pure. He’d keep looking if he weren’t responsible for keeping Cody that way – alive. Noel was able to peel his eyes away from the road to notice that Cody had discarded his baseball cap at some point, and strand of blonde and brown framed his face in a way that made him look even more beautiful. If he could make Cody smile like this all the time, Noel wouldn’t have to face the loneliness in the pit of his stomach.

For once, Noel felt whole.

For once, Cody felt alive.

And alive with every fibre of his being, his skin was on fire. Cody felt like he was re-animating his own corpse, like he was filling himself out again, slowly but surely. Colouring carefully in the lines. Yet, a wave of nausea hit Cody that was unparalleled by any hangover or comedown he had ever experienced. Maybe it was everything hitting him at once; The sleepless nights, the diet of caffeine and pastries, the alcohol on his empty stomach from hours of unnoticed fasting, the adrenaline surging through his being, the sickening feeling of a teenage crush. And everything suddenly felt so heavy. Noel glanced to his side and noticed that Cody’s sun-kissed skin had drained of it’s beach-boy charm and he was a dullish grey, eyes tightening slightly as his lips did the same.  
“Dude I’m gonna- Slow the fuck down-“Cody dry heaved, hand coming up to cover his own mouth. Noel’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, he couldn’t quite tell whether his concern’s origin was his car’s interior or Cody’s declining well-being.  
“I can’t exactly just slow down,” Cody lurched forward as both hands came to palm at his knees, Noel squeaked in response, shoulders hitching upwards, “Don’t you dare fucking vomit in my car, Cody, I swear to God above- “  
“I can’t fucking help- it- “This was one of the moments where Cody wished he would’ve just passed out, to save himself the crippling embarrassment of his own weak gut and for his corpse to be lulled around in Noel’s mazda until he brought it to a halt.  
Cody released the contents of his stomach into the passenger side foot well of Noel’s car.  
His black old skool’s painted in his own bile. A hand was on his back, palming.  
“No. You didn’t- You fucking didn’t. Oh, you fucking did, you dickhead.” Noel’s eyes were darting between the road and the withered form of the man beside him so quickly that he swore they’d clock a speed gun. His words betrayed his digits that were smoothing themselves over Cody’s spine as he drooped in his own lap.  
“I’m fucking sorry- don’t drive like a maniac- “Words muffled as they pressed against his denim, wiping his lips against the fabric in the process. A little patch of darker black now visible on his jeans. Noel couldn’t help but chuckle at the satire. If Noel only knew how his laugh broke the self-punishing dialogue in Cody’s head.  
“That is kinda what I’m meant to do as a street driver, you dumbass-”  
“Please don’t drive back there.” Now Cody was panicking and he couldn’t do anything but look at his own fingers, the back of his hands slightly wet from his own wiped dribble. Cody hated feeling small and if the world could swallow him up right now, it’d be welcome. If the world sent the other car clattering into the passenger side, just enough to end him and not scathe Noel, it’d be welcome. A complete anomaly probability wise, but welcome.  
“Bitch- what?”  
“Don’t drive back please- I can’t step out of your fucking car with vomit on my shoes, I’ll never hear the end of it-“ Noel wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with the prospect of overthinking and Cody’s tangent mirrored the thoughts he’d have before he’d fall asleep sometimes. Those ones that would make him rub his earlobe, make his chest tighten. And although the vessel they were in was a complete manifestation of Noel’s achievements, Noel’s status, Noel’s wealth- Carpets could be cleaned and air fresheners could be hung, and all of this could go away. What was the point in crying over spilled milk? What was the point in Cody crying over spilt vomit?  
“And where exactly do you expect me to go, genius?” Noel kept his tone light but treated Cody like a human. Noel knew what pity felt like, how it made him want to scrub his skin clean.  
“I don’t fucking know just- I can’t take the shame. Please dude.”  
“You’re awful-“Noel scoffed.  
“Please. I’ll pay for the valeting. I’ll buy you dinner too. Anything. I swear.”

Bingo.

Diner dinner with a pretty boy and a free valet for his other baby.

“Fine.” Noel feigned indifference, turning the wheel out of the car park much to the confusion of those who’d come to watch him. Because they had truly come to watch him. Noel couldn’t help himself but crack up in the drivers seat, making Cody glance at him and giggle slightly too. Nervously, but a giggle nonetheless, and Noel gave Cody a look that screamed understanding,  
“You only wanna go for dinner with me because yours is all over the floor of my fucking miata.”


End file.
